


Bad Analogies and Clichés

by Quiltaday



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 07:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14100009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiltaday/pseuds/Quiltaday
Summary: A dozen or so bad analogies, a double-handful of TS clichés, more fannon than should be legal for one little fic, and start it all off with "It was a dark and stormy night.” And let’s be honest – it  will take a GPS and highly detailed map to find much strict cannon – if you don’t wind up 40 miles in the opposite direction.





	Bad Analogies and Clichés

It was a dark and stormy night. The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play. The Sentinel rolled over in his bed, senses on high alert, sleep escaping him. Below him, his listened as his guide finally put down the last of the blue books he was grading once again into the late hours of the night, and settled in for the evening. As Blair’s breathing and heartbeat slowed into the familiar rhythm of slumber, Jim was gently lulled to sleep by them.

Morning came too early. Jim dressed and came downstairs to Blair put the finishing touches on their usual breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. "How’d you sleep?"

"Fine, thanks." It was going to be a long day. An up and coming politician, John Lieberman, and his wife were due in at the station first thing, and Detective Ellison was acting as liaison between Lieberman and the department. And he had yet to break the mission to his partner, who detested such assignments. "You ready, Junior?"

Grabbing a slice of toast for the road, he replied "After you." The younger man followed behind like a centipede with 98 missing legs.

They stepped off the elevator and into Major Crimes. "Ellison, my office!" The voice thundered through the bullpen. The entered the office of Simon Banks, captain of Major Crimes. He was as tall as a six-foot, five-inch tree, and it was at times like this, when he was angry, that Blair tended to cling to his Blessed Protector like a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

"Ellison, are you ready for today? I want you on your best behavior, and I mean it." The captain chomped on his cigar.

"Don’t worry, Sir, I’ve got it all under control. Trust me."

Simon looked up from his paperwork. "That’s what frightens me." he muttered in a voice so husky it could pull a dogsled.

Ellison and Sandburg left the captain’s office. "So, what’s eating him? And why does he want you on your best behavior?" They entered the elevator, pushing the button for the main lobby.

"We’re , uh, escorting someone important around town today..."

The revelation his partner was holding out on him came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine "No, Jim, say it ain’t so! Not *another* politician. Come on, you know I can’t stand playing kiss up to those ..."

"Assemblyman Lieberman, nice to meet you." The detective interrupted his partner as he heard the man approaching. He looked at the woman who exited the elevator a few steps behind the Assemblyman. She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.  Jim swallowed hard, "It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lieberman." and offered his hand.

She had a deep, throaty laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up. "Hey, my name is Mary Rainey, and I’ve never met none of you peoples ‘afore. Not never. Now if you’ll just move." She pushed past them, and headed towards the stairway.

"Well, um, shall we?" Ellison motioned towards the door. Blair spared a backwards glance at the mysterious woman. She was rude, she was crude, and her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever. He was glad that they wouldn’t be spending the day with the likes of *her*.

The assemblyman’s wife was, of course, a model. Very famous and beautiful, mind you. Married for almost four years, when they met he fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River. After spending the past several days apart, he was meeting her at the Nature Center in just a few hours for lunch. Blair felt sure that he’d choke the politician if he heard any more about his ‘simply stunning creature’ of a wife.

The morning passed quickly. Lieberman wanted to see various parts of Cascade, from the economically elite areas, to the South side slums. Why did every politician feel the need to visit the slums? They spent the morning in upper Cascade, where the wealth was obvious.

Lieberman was delivered, safely mind you, to the nature center to meet up with his wife. Lunch was a romantically casual setting for two - a blanket and picnic basket meal catered by a local restaurant, and a boat was tied nearby for an after lunch ride. John was just settling down to wait when his lady showed up.

She was beautiful. Tall and slender, with long blonde hair and her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster. But she moved with the grace of a cow, and her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center to match.

"Oh, John!" she called to her man. "Oh, Linda!" he called back. They had not set eyes on each other for two whole days. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 pm traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 pm at a speed of 35 mph. Blair vomited a little bit in his mouth as he watched the scene unfold before him.

After the couple ate, they took a short boat ride on the lake. It was a beautiful area, created by an ice glacier ages ago. Surrounded by the forest, with mountains in the background, the little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't, it’s occupants oblivious to everything else in the world but each other, their love burning with the fiery intensity of a urinary tract infection.

Blair barely controlled gagging sounds as the two lovers said their good-byes. She was heading to Monte Carlo for another photo shoot, while he continue his tour through Washington State.

The three made their way down South street. Not a neighborhood that Lieberman would consider going into by himself. They neared an empty building, and the Assemblyman paused. The building was old and unkempt. However, one could look past the filth and years and see the creative masonry that lay beneath. Under the dingy white of the stucco that was applied in the mid-fifties, when the trend was about to cover up brick facing, the natural brick was there. Several large chunks of the stucco had fallen away, revealing the red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.

"I’d like to go up into here." John started up the steps. Ellison was about to protest when a woman came out of the next building.

"You, cop, come here," The woman motioned for Ellison. "I got a problem."

"Just a moment." Ellison replied. Turning to his partner, he continued. "You escort Assemblyman Lieberman up into the building," he paused, ignoring the ‘puppy-dog eyes’ his partner cast him, "and I’ll be right along."

Sandburg mumbled, "Thanks, Jim, I’ll remember this during your next battery of tests," knowing that Jim’s sensitive ears would hear it. Blair listened just briefly as the woman asked questions of how to throw her boyfriend out of her apartment while keeping all of his belongings. The observer followed the politician up and into the building.

The halls were much like the exterior - filthy, but beneath the years and abuse, the craftsmanship was apparent. Blair ran his fingers along the banister as they ascended the stairs, wondering what stories the walls could tell.

The top of the stairs led to a loft type top floor. To the right was a French door leading out onto the roof, all of the glass broken out.

"I saw you looking at her. You want her, don’t you?"

The words caught the observer off guard. "Huh? What are you talking about?" his thoughts were still on the building.

John Lieberman turned to face him. "I saw you, I saw the lust you had for my wife. Well, she’s mine and you can’t have her."

"That’s fine, I don’t want her."

"Are you saying she’s undesirable? How dare you!" He picked up a piece of wood from the floor and advanced on the stunned grad student.

"Wait a second, that’s not what I said." The assemblyman was sending more mixed signals than a dyslexic third-base coach. “Just put that thing down.” Blair let out a cry as the makeshift club connected with his right knee. Struggling back to his feet, he backed out the door and onto the roof, limping painfully.

The Sentinel sneezed as he entered the building. From the upstairs came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and "Jeopardy" comes on at 7 pm instead of 7:30. In full blown Blessed Protector mode, he broke out into a run as he recognized the cry as from his guide, his thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like socks in a dryer without Cling Free.

He reached the roof to see his Guide and the attacker near the roof edge. With thought, he pulled his gun as Lieberman raised the weapon again for another attack. "Drop it!" he hollered, but John gave no indication that he would. Ellison squeezed the trigger, just once. Lieberman fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

"Chief, you okay?" He helped his partner away from the edge, seating him onto a discarded chair. The detective pulled out his cell phone to dial for medical assistance. It didn’t take much to realize that Blair’s knee was badly injured.

Blair hissed with pain as he shifted to a more comfortable position. "Is he dead?"

Ellison looked over the edge, down at the body of Lieberman. “Oh, yeah.”  The sentinel felt relieved and apprehensive, like a little boy who has just wet his bed. His captain would not be happy about the way this little political tour turned out. But from the way he understood politics, it was no big deal. Politicians came and went. There might be story in the news, but that would be it.

The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.

The End (thank God!)


End file.
